


Pieces of My Heart

by whiffingbooks



Series: These prompts keep pulling me in [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 31 Days Writing Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Harry and Ginny Unofficial Discord Challenge, Prompt Fic, Wangst, WritersMonth2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiffingbooks/pseuds/whiffingbooks
Summary: Prompt: LossGinny wonders whether it will stop hurting one day.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: These prompts keep pulling me in [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859185
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Pieces of My Heart

"Good practice!" Gwenog shouts at the players still in the air. "I'm calling it for today. Weasley, come here for a second."

Ginny swoops towards the ground, her panic growing at the thought of being chewed out.

She doesn't think she'll be able to handle it.

"Yes, Captain?" She gets off her broom, swinging it on top of her right shoulder. Her teammates throw her concerned looks, but she ignores them.

Gwenog scans her from head to toe, her eyebrows scrunched up. Ginny is struck by how aged Gwenog looks. Is she as tired as Ginny is?

"How are you holding up?" Gwenog asks, her eyes too knowing for her liking.

"I'm okay. Never been better," Ginny says shortly. Gwenog's eyebrows raise at her tone, but her face remains impassive. She analyzes Ginny's face in search of something. Perhaps, for some sign of weakness.

Eventually, she nods.

"Report on time for practice, Weasley." Gwenog slaps Ginny's back before walking away. Ginny stays standing there for a long time, trying to control the rising emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

"Bugger," she mutters, wiping away the sweat from her forehead. Slowly, she trudges to her changing room, ready to wash the day's hardships away.

She doesn't sleep that night.

She tolerates the sympathetic gaze of her roommate without snapping the entire evening. Or worse, breaking down. She puts on her smile, pretending that the next day is not a special occasion. As if her heart hasn't been tearing apart at the seams for the last two years.

As she lies in her bed, she wonders whether she is despicable when a wave of arousal hits her. It has been a long time since she last kissed someone and not run away as if she has committed the gravest sin possible.

She wants to go to sleep, but the impending dreams are not worth it. She has the worst dreams when she's overwrought. She will rather have the memory of Harry's body falling on the ground than the memories that assail her. The memories that are now tainted with a bitterness she never thought was likely.

But she can't fall asleep when there's a thrum of excitement underneath her skin, an anticipation building from the phantom touches seared into her skin.

_ Weak _ , she thinks as she gives in to her temptation. She has always been weak when it comes to him.

Harry's face is easy to conjure. He looks as if not a single day had gone by since they shared passionate moments in their favourite hiding place. The only time she felt as if she had him completely.

His hair is still shaggy. She reaches out to touch it. It feels the same as it did, the same softness remains. The sensation shoots a tendril of heat into her abdomen.

She smiles, showing the ever-present hunger for him. A hunger that can never be quenched.

Ginny slides her hands up her thighs, imagining his long fingers gripping her hard. Her mind brings up the feeling he gave her when he slid his fingers inside her knickers. He had been terrified, downright shaking, but his eyes were alight with want and affection. She had wondered whether part of the excitement had been how he looked at her: awed, reverent, content.

"Gin," she imagines him cupping her breast, murmuring how much he wants her. She slips her hand inside her knickers, moving her finger the way she once taught him, desperately wishing he was here to touch her.

She wants to drag this out, knowing the inevitable crash will come whether she wants it to or not. She wants to come before it does.

"You look so beautiful," she drags up her nightgown, imagining Harry shedding her clothes while muttering his stupid yet sincere compliments. She tweaks her nipples, wishing she could have him kissing her.

She's close. She hasn't been this close in ages.

But, of course, Harry ruins her build-up.

She envisions him facing her, his eyes sincere and horrible at the same time.

"I love--" he starts.

Ginny slams her eyes shut as agony rips her heart open. Immediately, Harry vanishes, leaving behind the space that she can never fill even when she tries to.

"You tosser," she says hoarsely before succumbing to her tears.

It's a lie her mind always manages to conjure up. 

She hates it. Sometimes, she hates him. That's her long-held secret.

She doesn't know how she'll look at him tomorrow.

She wonders whether she'll ever know.

The next morning, she Floos in the Burrow, not at all surprised at the sombre expressions all around.

She looks like a mess. The memories had plagued her all night, not letting her take a nap. Harry's happy face was nothing, but a bitter reminder of what she has lost. She doesn't want to remember anymore.

"Shall we?" Her Mum asks her, her eyes tinged red from crying. Ginny nods.

They drag themselves out of the door to the nearest Apparition point, bouquets clutched in their hands. Ron falls in step with her, his hand around a sniffling Hermione.

At least they have each other. Ginny wonders whether she should feel jealous of them. She doesn't think she can feel anything other than exhausted.

"How's work?" She asks them, hoping to get Hermione talking.

It doesn't work. Hermione opens her mouth, but her face crumbles. She shakes her head.

"Work is work. I have been assigned a new case," Ron says, his face painted in misery.

Once, Ginny had asked him why he joined the Aurors. He never wanted to be one. She never wanted him to throw his life away.

"You don't understand!" Ron had roared, tears streaming down his face. "You don't - You - It's the only thing I can do. The only way I can keep him alive."

She did understand. After the war, she had wanted to run away. Her family might say she had. She only returned to England for occasional visits after all.

She had stuck to playing Quidditch, her mind playing in a loop Harry's delighted face when he had found out about her wish.

"That's great, Gin!" He had snogged her quite thoroughly.

It's a pity that he never got his.

The grave in Godric's Hollow suits him. She traces the letters of his name, wondering whether he's with his family. She will be happy too, if only she got a sign.

Nowadays, Ginny feels like she does nothing, but wonder. 

"I miss you, Harry. I -" her throat closes up, the words not wanting to come out. Once they are out, she knows there's no pretending. No pretending she's okay. No stopping him from appearing in her dreams. No stopping him from tormenting her with his sincerity.

But she owes him the truth. She's tired of being stuck. And she wants to hear back from him. Even if he never felt it.

"I love you," she whispers, feeling as if she has shed some invisible armour, baring her soul in the process. She glances around, hoping to dispel the vulnerability. 

She can't take back the words. Surprisingly, she doesn't want to.

That night, staying at her childhood room, she conjures up Harry. He gives her a knowing look, his gaze as steady as the deepest parts of the ocean.

"Touch me," she begs, taking off her clothes. He complies.

It feels too real when his hands skim her heated skin when he kisses her throat.

"Ginny..." she slides her hand between her thighs, having no problem imagining him touching her with the intensity he always possessed.

"Lay back. Let me make you feel better," he mutters. She obeys him, too powerless not to.

Her throat closes with the emotions she had never been brave enough to show. She was always worried that he would leave her. And afterwards, it was too late.

She feels him circling her clit, his hands making the familiar movement.

Fondness, bitterness and pain rise in her. For the first time in ages, she lets herself experience them.

Harry looks up from between her legs, smiling as if he knows what she's doing.

"Harry..." she pants, keening when he slips inside a finger, touching at just the right place. She grasps her bedsheets with one hand, her moans getting louder and louder. She's close. Oh, so close. Closer than she had been in years.

Harry rises but doesn't stop his movement. He presses his whole body flush against her. She tilts her head, accepting his feverish kiss.

"Ginny, I love you." He mumbles as she bites back a cry, anguish and affection filling her up. She shuts her eyes to enjoy his full attention. "I love you. You can let go now."

Let go, in ways more than one.

Ginny screams, stars exploding behind her eyelids. She clutches the bedding with her hands as she is hit by sensations long forgotten. She's overwhelmed in all the best ways. She trembles at the onslaught, but through it all, Harry is there.

Harry mutters sweet nothings as she comes. Slowly, as she settles, she senses him getting fainter, his touch becoming light.

Panicking, she grasps his hand.

"Will you stay?" Her voice shakes at the thought of spending the night alone. "At least, until I'm ready?"

Harry envelopes her in his arms, his body too real to be a part of her imagination.

"As long as you want me to," his promises, his voice fierce.

He never breaks promises, her Harry never did.

Wrapped in her phantom lover's arms, Ginny finally falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This one was tough to write. You know where to find me.


End file.
